


our day will come

by sleeplessandcynical



Category: Professional Wrestling, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Adrian Neville has a dirty consent-seeking mouth (headcanon), And a lil heel!Neville, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Flirting, Babyface!Neville, Content warning: ska music, F/M, Long-Term Relationship(s), POV First Person, Romantic Angst, Rough Sex, Sami Zayn is an incorrigible matchmaker (headcanon), Sappy, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Timelines what are timelines, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, half-assed slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 10:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10717443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplessandcynical/pseuds/sleeplessandcynical
Summary: narrator/OC is Sami Zayn's musician big sister. She's super-shy and he decides to set her up with his coworker, Adrian Neville, based on their mutual love of music. Good things happen. Then bad things happen. And that's how heel turns are made."Look, all I know is that you couldn't take your eyes off her, but more importantly, she can't take her eyes off you."...You may think you're the king, but I was your queen,and I will not cower.





	1. automatic

**Author's Note:**

> in my goal to write more cruiserweight fic, I have a confession to make: I am 100% in love with [babyface Adrian Neville.](https://sleeplessandcynical.tumblr.com/post/159921253755/ive-alluded-to-writing-a-sappy-as-fuck) Like you don't even fucking KNOW how much I adore his face. And on Talk is Jericho, Sami Zayn mentioned that Neville really loves reggae and ska music, so I thought it would be fun to do a meet-cute sort of thing since it's something I've been into myself for the past, eh, almost 20 years and therefore can feel kinda confident writing about? After that I have no excuse, it just exploded.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Soundtrack: Less Than Jake - Losing Streak - "Automatic"](https://youtu.be/iA1sq9n78xk)

 "Come  _on_ , kid, I don't want him to have already left for the night!" 

"Call me 'kid' one. more. time _."_ I rolled my eyes. "Your legs are like nine feet long and I can't keep up when you're dragging me like this! Isn't practice supposed to tire you out? And where the hell are we even going?"

He ignored me with a smile and pushed the door open. "Neville!" His voice echoed across metal and tile, and the groan that came in response made Sami laugh out loud. 

"What the fuck do you want, Zayn?" The darker man barked, and then drew a sudden short inhale when he saw who rounded the corner. "Jesus, pardon my French! Zayn, why'd you go and bring a woman back here? I coulda been in the shower, or worse!"

Luckily, his declaration covered my own near-gasp, although I couldn't do anything about my red face except try to cover it with my hands. I'd seen him fight my brother on a few occasions, but he was twice as gorgeous up close- small but muscular, with shoulders that threatened to burst through his very faded, damp band t-shirt ( _the old Skinhead Moonstomp one, that's **class** , _I thought through a daze) and thighs that threatened to burst through his jeans. The rest of him was charmingly, ass-whoopingly elfin, and his hair curled in wet tendrils only served to emphasize the youthful sharpness of his nose and cheekbones.

Sami, who had not stopped looking smug _and_ apologetic the entire time, explained, "Neville, this is my big sister" - he waggled his eyebrows and ruffled my hair at the irony of that statement next to my relative stature - "and she has a dilemma." He elbowed me in the ribs, and I blushed even deeper and punched him in the arm.

Neville took a step back, as though there wasn't quite enough oxygen in the room all of a sudden, and I tried to keep breathing while focused intently on the toes of my boots. I was the older one, yes, but also the shy one, the one who let other people and things talk first when the necessity arose. Because if I wasn't holding a guitar, well, otherwise I pulled a deer-in-headlights or, worse, couldn't stop babbling - 

"I have an extra ticket to a gig at the warehouse tonight, my friend bailed at the last minute because she's not feeling well, and Sami says you like the same music as me and you like to dance and stuff, and I heard Doreen Schaffer is going to be there, and I've seen these bands like a hundred times so i know it's gonna be really really good, I promise. I'm really sorry for bothering you, I know you must be tired, but Sami insisted I ask because he's a jerk who doesn't want me going alone even though -"

_Yeah. About that._

"Hold up, do you mean the Slackers?" My excitement at his recognition finally forced my gaze up from the ground, and he tilted his head as my face lit up. 

"Yeah! They're one of my favorites, and they're so good live but I guess if you know them I'm not telling you anything new." 

"I actually tried to get a ticket for that gig, because I've not seen them, but it was sold out. Are you saying you want _me_ to go with you? Stuck in a club all night with a total stranger your idiot brother knows?" He locked dark eyes with me, but his gaze was soft, and I thought I might melt into the locker room floor.

I blushed again. "If you wanted to, that would be really great. Sami thinks everything I listen to is too slow and he gets seasick trying to dance to it." I jabbed him with my elbow this time, and he sold it dramatically as the rest of us rolled our collective eyes.

"If you don't mind waiting for a few minutes while I finish packing up, I'll bully him into driving us. I haven't been out dancing in ages, and I'd love to."

"Deal!" I grinned. "I'll wait out in the hall."

As I quietly made my way back to the door, I heard him say, "Zayn, have you lost your mind? Sending me out with your _sister_? Is this some sort of joke?" _Shit. He hates me. I knew it. You fucking idiot._ I froze, and my stomach lurched.

"If you don't want to go, then tell her. Tell me. I'm not going to make you. But you did think she was, and I quote, 'the only person in the room' last night." Another wave of nausea rolled over me, but for totally different reasons. I was gonna end up with whiplash. 

He was at my _gig_? Sami was the athlete in the family, and I was what our parents politely referred to as 'the creative one' - barely able to get through a sentence and emerge on the other end in one piece, but somehow doing it with a guitar in my hands shielded me from the stress enough that it actually became enjoyable. Last night was supposed to be a low-key couple of acoustic soul sets at my local dive bar, a break after a great but exhausting tour, and it _was_  low-key until about fifty extra people showed up. I was pretty sure that was my brother's fault, although he claimed not to know anything about that strange coincidence. And apparently the man I'd accepted as long-distance eye candy forever and ever ago had been among them. Knowing that after the fact was somehow more nerve-wracking than if he'd been in the front row.

I didn't have to see my little brother to know the shit-eating grin he had on his face right now. He could be a little overprotective and a lot obnoxious, but it was consistently overpowered by his drive to see everyone around him happy. 

A long exhale. "You're right. It just feels like too much - like you're setting this up to fuck with me when I inevitably say or do something stupid."

I heard a thud that sounded like somebody getting whacked on the back, and then Sami cheerfully pointed out that it wasn't like I couldn't kick his ass myself. "You've seen her, she's one tough cookie. Look, all I know is that you couldn't take your eyes off her, but more importantly, she can't take her eyes off you."

_Okay, that's quite enough of this nonsense_ , I thought, quietly letting myself out into the hall and leaning my forehead against the wonderfully cold cinderblocks as I waited. They emerged a few minutes later, when my blood pressure had dropped to semi-normal, and Sami tossed their bags in the trunk before all but shoving both of us in the backseat. "I don't need either of you playing DJ," he cracked, and I rolled my eyes. 

Neville looked over at me with an eyebrow raised, and I explained, "It's bad luck to listen to the bands you're going to see, even if it's by accident on shuffle. Traditionally, you assign someone the job of playlist wrangler, but since he's not going, he's in charge. Those are the rules." I sighed dramatically, and Sami fiddled with his phone before starting the car.

"Ahh. That actually makes more sense than it should." He nodded, but any further conversation was immediately interrupted when a familiar voice butted in over the sound system:

_This is the old dude, Howard J. Reynolds, and you're listening to Less Than Jake!_

I slammed my back into the car seat and punched the car ceiling in victory. "Yes! Oh my god, it's been like five years since the last time I heard this! Reminds me of when I was trying to teach you to drive but you wouldn't stop rolling down the window and dancing at strangers every time we got to a stop sign? You were such a fetus!" 

"At least I grew _up,_ " Sami cackled, pummeling the steering wheel as the drums kicked in. "Remember when you were in eighth grade, and I was in sixth, and they made us trade lockers because you couldn't reach the top row?"

"Punkass. You got all the height and good looks, but at least I got all the fuckin'  _brains_ , ya dipshit." I smacked the back of his headrest, already grinning in anticipation of the reaction I knew I could elicit.

"Dude! Language!" 

"How are you two even  _related?_ " Neville shook his head. He rubbed his temples like we were gonna give him a migraine, but I saw a flash of a smile behind his hands. "Did anyone think to check the receipts, or did they just look at the hair and go, 'Eh, close enough'?"

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome we are," Sami shot back over his shoulder, and then he cranked the stereo and I crowed over him as the chorus hit. He was always Chris, and I was always Roger, at least for most of this album. Sami couldn't harmonize for  _shit._

_is this the same routine_  
_or just some fucked-up dream_  
_that keeps you walking_  
_mindless all the way_   
_i think i think i know it all..._

_  
_

_

 

_


	2. our day will come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Soundtrack: the Slackers feat Doreen Schaffer - Better Late Than Never - "Our Day Will Come"](https://youtu.be/5AGJUBOwq5g)

When we arrived, there was still a short queue alongside the club's outer wall, so we got in it and waited. 

"Thanks for coming out with me tonight, Neville. It's always nice to have company."

"Please, for the love of God, call me Adrian. I don't know why your brother doesn't."

"Alright, Adrian." I grinned, and hopped back and forth excitedly. "Sorry about subjecting you to car karaoke. Old habits die hard."

"Nah, it was great. I don't know if Sami told you, but he brought me out to your gig last night. Well, he's brought me to a couple of them, actually. I might love your voice even more up close."

That turned me around all _kinds_ of ways, but I managed to contain most of the tremble after a couple of deep breaths. "He didn't, but I heard you talking about it while I was waiting." I kicked anxiously at the ground with the toe of my boot. "I haven't seen you out before."

"I usually leave right as you finish. He always wants me to meet you, but it's always so crowded and, well, I just get nervous." He shrugged. 

"You? Really? But that's my job. The being a total chicken thing. You're always so...I mean, I've seen you and my brother fight a bunch of times and you always look so calm."

"You always look so calm behind a microphone and yet here we are, can't even look at each other." He chuckled, and I took the dare, briefly locking eyes with him before we both had to look back away. I leaned against the wall, hands jammed deep in the pockets of my jeans.  

We finally got carded, checked, stamped, and sent on our merry way, and my Mission Critical was booze. I'm a lightweight, but not an easy drunk - I get all sleepy and boring when I've had too many - and I figured I could maintain a safe buzz, not do anything stupid, and have something to do with my hands. Adrian gave me a funny look as we passed the closer side bar, but I shot straight for the back, greeting my favorite bartender with a big excited wave. He grinned and waved back, pouring three shots of whiskey and taking out two cans of Guinness draught as I thanked him and put a handful of bills down on. He shook his head, but took them anyway, and I laughed.

"A regular, eh? _"_ Adrian asked over the music.

"Only a little. El -" I nodded to Tall, Dark, and Handsome behind the bar "- and I used to be roommates. He knows what I like." I gave him a nudge with my elbow.

He nodded, picked up his shotglass and we all gave each other the eye. He called, in reference to a song I often played during acoustic sets, "To whiskey and wild, wild women."

"Slàinte," I cheered, cheeks a little pink at his choice of words, and we killed our shots before I hugged El over the bar and we took our beers out into the crowd. 

"By the way, whatever your brother told you was probably bullshit - I can't dance worth a damn. I'm sorry."

"Oh, that's fine. As long as you don't mind me dancing with everybody else," I teased, and Adrian just gave me this _look_ that seemed like it ought to be followed with some flavor of mournful sigh. Then he laughed, and I did too, and it felt like all was right with the world.

Sure enough, it didn't take long before I ran into a handful of regulars and old friends. The DJ was spinning all reggae covers, mostly Motown and soul, during the break, and I quickly found myself leading the singer of the opening band, an intensely charismatic brunette named Rachel, in a twirly two-step to the Heptones version of "Suspicious Minds." 

After that was the Aggrolites doing "Don't Let Me Down," which made the whole crowd roar with delight. I was wrangling with somebody from last night's dive gig, and as he attempted to dip me but almost dropped me on my ass, I leaned back and shot a wink at Adrian, who threw his head back, laughed out loud, and brought us another round. I grabbed the beer from his hand and turned around, mock-grinding my ass at him as I took a big swig, and to my surprise, he leaned toward me but didn't touch me with his free hand. I turned my face up and sang at the top of my lungs, bumping against his chest as for five minutes in my life I didn't care about anything except belting the chorus to that song towards the ceiling. 

The lights started to go down, and the crowd started to wind up for what we knew was coming. My skin was practically buzzing from nerves and whiskey, everybody was nudging shoulders and it felt like complete sensory overload as the entire warehouse exploded into one pulsing dancefloor and time lost all meaning.

We were probably fifteen songs deep before I finally stopped for a breath, sweat trickling down my temples. Adrian was still by my side, swaying, a huge smile across his handsome face.

Not really sure what to do with my hands now, I stuck them partly in my trouser pockets, and then froze. He'd done the exact same thing, and the outside edges of our hands were now brushed up against each other.  _He has to feel that, right?_ I shifted my weight in time with the music and gently touched him again, just to make sure, and to my shock, he bumped back and this time he was the one who didn't move away.

It should have been nothing. Sami and I regularly got strange arms slung over our shoulders and our hands grabbed at punk shows. I'd been full-body knocked into people who couldn't even be bothered to wear shirts, and _way_ more than once I'd come away with my face damp and sticky, curls plastered flat with somebody else's sweat. 

But that little sliver of skin was suddenly my entire world. 

He took his hands out of his pockets, and I missed that small warmth immediately. But then he hooked just his thumbs instead, so when he swayed into me, his fingers briefly covered mine, with only the fabric of my jeans keeping us from making contact. 

_It's on you now, punk. Be cool. Or don't. Whatever._

At the beginning of the next song, I pulled my hands out, and he politely moved aside, only to stiffen as I followed his lead, hooking my thumbs in my belt loops instead and letting our fingers touch. When he froze, I backed off just enough to give him room to do the same, but instead he swayed into me and gently trailed his fingers over. 

I was  _gone._ There was something so close and intimate and permissive and  _sweet_ about that gesture that I couldn't help a shiver, and a small amount of amusement at how intensely turned on I'd become by the simple connection of his fingertips to the tender inside of my wrist. I leaned into him, to say  _please don't stop please don't stop,_ and as he gently stroked over my pulse point, I started to feel a little bit dizzy.

And suddenly the Goddess herself made an appearance, and I literally jumped up and down like a kid on Christmas morning when Doreen Schaffer made her way to the microphone. 

I almost crashed into Adrian in my enthusiasm, and his careful hand on my lower back returned me to earth. I slung my arm around his shoulders, and he read my cue and ducked his ear to my face. I got as close as I dared, and spoke quietly, just trying to get it out before I lost my nerve.

"Dance with me? Please? I mean, you said you wanted to go dancing -" and there it was. _Hello, Panic, my old friend._ "- but oh god, I mean, I don't mean, you don't have to do it with me, you don't owe me anything, I hope it didn't come across like that, I just really love this song, you can just tell me no and I won't bring it up again, I swear -"

And suddenly there was something else, a warm arm sliding across the middle of my back before settling what felt like contentedly just below my bra strap. Feet staggered. _Wait a second._ With practiced ease, he had tucked my right hand into his left, and me neatly into the crook of his right elbow. Huh. Not only could Adrian technically dance, but he was _thoughtful_ about it, allowing me to set the tone, leaving me enough space to keep to myself if I wanted it.

I didn't want it. 

I settled my free hand on his upper arm, but then changed my mind, trailing my fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair. Adrian visibly shivered, and pulled me even closer to him, ducking his head until our respective temples were touching. "I just wanted you to ask," he murmured in my ear. "I needed to hear that it was what you wanted."

I broke out in goosebumps at his words, and again a few seconds later when Doreen's saintly voice echoed over the PA. It was a catchy enough song, harmless on its own, but when she did it, it fucking  _haunted_ me for days.

_our day will come_  
_and we'll have everything_  
_we'll share the joy_  
_falling in love can bring_

All of this was almost too much for me, and I buried my face in his neck so I didn't have to look, wrapping my free arm tightly around him. He stiffened just a bit, and I pulled back.  _It's too much. **You're** too much. He doesn't want to do it. That's okay. You can get through this dance. He gave you that space. _

He pressed the side of his face to mine again, and spoke softly, quickly. "No, no, you don't need to stop if you don't want to. I just...God. you feel so  _right_ there. It scares me."

_Great. Good job, honey. Not the first one, or the last._

"I don't want to scare you."

He clasped our joined hands on his chest, and I could feel his heart beating fast and birdlike through his shirt. 

_our day will come_  
_if we just wait a while_  
_no tears for us_  
_think love and wear a smile_

"When I saw you last night, and every time before, backstage or onstage, all I could think was that I hope whoever goes home with you appreciates it, because you're a fucking treasure."

I shook my head the tiniest bit, keeping our faces together, feeling my curls brush his cheek. "No one. I live alone, I go home alone, and that's how it always is." 

"Is that what you want?"

I closed my eyes. "No. I don't mind being alone, but I don't want to do it forever. I'm just -" _T_ _oo everything. In life, too shy. Too frightened. Onstage, too raucous. Prone to loud bouts of overshare._

"You're too good for us. All of us." Wait, did he just kiss my ear? Was that technically kissing, or just talking really close? Suddenly the distinction became  _really_ important.

 _no one can tell me_  
_that i'm too young to know_  
_i love you so_  
_and our day will come_

"What do you want, Adrian?"

"You. Since the first time I saw you."

Now it was my turn to freeze, and his to draw back, concern creasing his beautiful face. "Was that too much? I could have phrased it better."

I shook my head again, and pressed our foreheads together. "Not at all. I just...I don't hear that lot. Mostly I hear about how I'm -" _Too ambitious. Hard to handle. Unfeminine and therefore unlovable as though there's a direct fucking correlation._ "- difficult."

"What, because you're all guitars and muscle cars and ass-kicking and your hair is shorter than mine and your mind is always on work? At least that's what that idiot brother of yours says when he gets mad about the way people treat you." Our noses touched. I wanted to cry. "But those are my favorite things about you. You're tough and you work hard and you don't take shit from anyone. You are nobody except yourself. On my best days, I would be happy to be half that good." He left my hand to rest over his heart and gently laid his along my jawline.

_Don't cry don't cry don't cry. **Shit**._

"You  _are,_ though, Adrian. Sami and the other guys tells me you work harder than anyone else in the room even when you could easily coast by on talent. You're so driven."

"Everyone else says obsessive. Hopeless. That I don't have room in my heart for anything except my job. But I do. I want to. I just need -"

"- someone who understands," I finished, and he smiled. It made my heart want to tear out of my chest and hand itself to him. I took a deep breath. "Adrian, I want you too." 

He looked relieved, releasing my face to take my hand again, but then tilted his head. "How do you want me? Tonight?"

I was pretty sure I knew my answer, deep in my bones, but I gave it a moment and a breath before I responded. "Tonight, and tomorrow, and as long as I can."

"You want me for more, then. You want me to be yours." It was half a question, a question that seemed to scare the shit out of him, and half a statement he seemed to think I might interrupt if he said it slowly enough.

"Is that okay? I mean, of course we might decide it's a total fucking disaster, nobody's bound to anything. But I would like it very much if you would kiss me, and if you would come home with me, and if you would still be there in the morning regardless of what we do or do not decide happens in the middle, and so on, and so forth, until you're sick of my face." I didn't know where all this bravery was coming from, but it was a huge weight off my shoulders.

"That's more than okay. That's everything I mean when I say that I want you."

I wrapped my arm around his neck and pressed our hearts as closely together as I could. "I could stay right here for the rest of the night."

"Well that seems like it would eventually be a waste, although I can relate." He leaned back a bit and gave me a small, shy smile. "Can I kiss you now?"

I thought about teasing him that I'd already asked him to, but then seeing the seriousness on his face, I nodded. "Please." 

He leaned in close, so close, but then he stopped, and I felt the panic start to rise again.  _He changed his mind. Shit. You fucked up._

But then he closed his eyes, and I realized he wasn't stopping. He was doing what he'd been doing all night in tiny, subtle ways. All of this, letting us meet in the middle instead of reaching out, all of these small acts of patience. He was  _waiting,_ letting me guide him in with my hand on the back of his head. 

And, as the song slowly came to an end, I did just that. His mouth was warm and soft and threatened to take my balance away and yet I'd never felt so calm before, so grounded. 

  



	3. self medication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Soundtrack: the Slackers - Self Medication - "Self-Medication"](https://youtu.be/IBd-aa2YnPI)

 

_my favorite medicine is_  
_whiskey and weed_  
_and i free-associate_  
_at sonic speed_

He didn't let go of my hand the whole walk back to my little studio apartment. The streets were close to empty at this time of night, and we used that opportunity to ask each other even more wonderful, scary questions. Neither of us had been with another person in ages, and both were careful and aware about our sexual health status, so that part didn't take long, but after that it got a little shaky. 

"You don't have to do this unless it's absolutely what you want." He had pulled me in while waiting for a light to change and, between kisses, was looking at me  _very_ seriously.

"I would not be bringing you to where I live if it wasn't what I want."

He smirked. "Well there's that, but the other stuff. The keeping-me-around bit. You don't have to make your mind up tonight."

"Neither do you," I shot back, and kissed him on his perfect, aquiline nose. "And yet here we are, having apparently spent the last god-only-knows-how-long silently mooning. I've got a lot of lost time to make up for, and as far as I'm concerned, it's going to take longer than one night."

"Yeah?" The light turned, and he gestured with his free hand for me to lead the way, not even trying to hide his blush.

I dropped my keys three times trying to unlock the deadbolt before we finally got inside.

He backed up against the door and pulled me into him, grinding his denim-clad thigh between my legs as I cried out and dragged our mouths back together, weaving my hips wantonly against his body. I couldn't be close enough. He reached down and ran his palms up my back from hip to shoulder and I started to melt. 

"Does that feel good? Do you like it when I touch you like that?" My heart ached, and I finally realized why - for Adrian, _my_ Adrian, this was not a rhetorical question, not that _you like that shit don't you_ that other men growled, thinking they knew the answer, that I loathed. This was a real question from someone who genuinely wanted to please me. It thrilled me to my core, but it also scared the shit out of me, because there were no assumptions here. I was going to have to tell him. 

"I love the way you touch me, Adrian. I love the way your... Fuck. Just having you between my legs makes me wet. Just being tangled close to you. I could probably come right here without you having to change a thing and that's so scary and so fucking  _hot._ "

All my shame was gone and I was a helpless, feral thing focused on nothing in the universe except his incredible beauty.

He kissed me again and pulled me even tighter against his body. "Please," he murmured. "If you can come like this, if you want to come like this, please, please do."

"Just promise me you won't stop." I buried my face in his neck again and he shivered. I finally took the hint and started pressing small kisses down to the junction with his shoulder, tugging his shirt collar aside, raking my fingers into his hair as he whimpered.

"Never. I will never stop doing everything I can to make you feel this way. Do you know how beloved you are? How fucking _treasured_?" His voice was hoarse and serious and shot right through me. 

"Show me," I gasped, the words sending me over the edge. "Show me how much." He pressed into me, hard, and I fell completely apart in his arms. I could feel how soaked my shorts and jeans were, and I didn't care. I just needed more. 

He crushed me to his chest and said, "I'm going to walk you to the bed, and I'm going to get us out of these clothes, and I am going to give you everything you tell me you need until we both fall to pieces. Is that what you want?"

"It's exactly what I want, Adrian. Please."

"God," he groaned into my mouth. "Every time you say my name I start to come undone." The back of my legs hit the bed and I let him pull my shirt and bra over my head before he laid me back, sprawled out overtop me, hands and mouth and body heat everywhere, tasting cloth and flesh and metal. I reached down and tugged his shirt up, and at the first touch of heated bare skin on skin we both cried out and stopped, each completely overwhelmed and unable to do anything except hold the other close. Finally he leaned back, pulled his shirt fully off, and drew his palms up my chest, the same broad strokes he'd used on my back, and I threw my head back and arched myself into his hands.

He stood up and gently kissed down my chest, teasing my pierced nipples with his tongue as he eased off my jeans. "Oh my god, love, you're soaked clean through. All this for me?" He seemed genuinely surprised, and on some distant planet, I wanted to be self-conscious, but that part of me had long been devoured by some fierce creature I barely recognized as myself as I raked my short nails down his back.

His desperate mouth found mine again and I all but snarled "Just for you," reaching for the waistband of his jeans. At that, I felt him grow weaker, and harder, and my mouth took on a life of its own. " _My_ boy. All mine, in my bed, in my hands. All of this is for you, but all of you is for me. Whatever happens, right now, you're mine. You're going to give me everything you've got in you, which I suspect is a lot, and I'm going to take all of it and then some. Isn't that right?"

_Who is this person I've become? Because she's a bit of a hardass. Huh._

I shoved his jeans and underwear over his hips, and slowly, gently took him in my hand. He began to grind against my fingers, kicking the rest of his clothes off as he kissed me and gave his heart-melting assent, over and over and over. 

"Tell me how you want this," he begged, dragging the head of his cock over my soaked cunt until I almost screamed. "Please. I have to know."

There was no question in my mind. "Slow and deep, Adrian. Please. Just... Fuck me like we've got all the time in the world."

At that, I felt him begin to press into me, and I knew I was in very serious trouble of the best kind. "Because we fucking do," he growled into my ear, sinking deeper and deeper. "We've finally got each other. We have _nothing_ but time." At that, he bottomed out in me, and I threw my head back and begged him to keep going, keep talking, keep  _everything._ "I'm yours now, and that means you can have me whenever and however you want. I'm not going anywhere."

I wrapped one leg around his hip and rolled onto our sides, still grinding slow and deep, kissing my way up his vulnerable throat. "This is all I want. This is all that matters. I don't know why, but it feels like I've been waiting my whole life to hear you say that I've got you."

"You do, love. This is it. I'm yours. For as long as you'll have me, I'm yours." He rolled over and pulled me on top of him, and I gasped as I sank even deeper onto his cock. "God, you're so beautiful. I can't believe I get to look at you like this." It seemed like every small movement set off every nerve ending, and all I had to do was brace myself and gently rock my hips to feel even more full. 

"Can I touch you?" he asked, sliding his hand between our bodies, and I could only respond with a chorus of "yes please please please yes touch me" as he brushed his fingertips over my clit. I begged him not to stop, and he didn't. 

"Oh my god, Adrian, your cock feels so incredible inside me, so good and so right, like I've been waiting forever for just this, just this, it's so good, _you're_ so good, you were made for my cunt, made for me, made for this and us and -" I knew I was babbling but I couldn't control it and I didn't care because we were clearly in the same boat. 

Adrian was barely holding it together beneath me. "Please, love, come for me, that's all I care about in this world, the only thing that matters is being able to give you what you need."

It felt like my entire body drew back and snapped, and the aftershocks didn't stop. 

"Please, Adrian, please come inside me, I want that more than anything."

"Are you sure, love?" He looked up at me with those big eyes and I almost couldn't hold myself up any longer. 

"I want you to. It's up to you but I want you to. Want you. All of you. Always."

He groaned hard at that last word and thrust up inside me, and my whole body shivered at the sensation of his release inside my cunt. 

"I... Oh my god. Thank you. Thank you." I kissed him all over his beautiful face. 

But he wasn't done yet. His hands found the front of my body again and while I was still writhing and hypersensitive, he slipped between my legs in a flash, arms hooked under my thighs. I grabbed his forearms and dug my fingers in for dear life; the feel of his stubble on my inner thighs and the mental image of his face covered in my come,  _our_ come, as his fingers brushed my nipples would have been more than enough all on its own. 

But then he looked up at me, dripping, with those  _eyes_ all big and pleading, and he didn't have to ask the question before I was begging, pleading, unashamedly driven crazy with want. He asked it anyway, and I told him yes a dozen times, and his tongue washed the gentlest little kitten licks over my hood before I pulled him into me so hard I was afraid I might hurt one of us. He didn't stop after I came, face buried in my cunt, still gently teasing every last jolt of sensation out of my body as I jerked and shuddered.

When I finally eased him up for a kiss, he laid me out on the bed next to him and ran his soft fingers over me until I shivered. "This is the most right I've ever felt with another human being. I wasn't just saying that." 

All I could do was nod. "Please stay with me?"

"Always, love." He kissed me deeply. "I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to." 


	4. the question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ Soundtrack: The Slackers - The Question - "The Question"](https://youtu.be/6-zFw_7bzm0)/"The Question (alt version feat. Q)"

_is your love as sweet as mine?_

_is your love, your love, as weak as mine?_

I woke up the next morning and he was still there, still sleeping quietly with his back to me. I pressed a kiss between his shoulderblades and smiled. 

It was amazing how much sense it all made. I'm no spring chicken, I know my way around new relationship energy and this was that, of course, but also an astonishingly calm sense of  _right_ and _home_ and _stay._  

We both felt it, and while the temptation to act was strong, we agreed to take it slow and careful as far as the logistics were concerned. Or, as he put it, "We've got each other, finally. That's what counts." Things always tended to sound a lot more romantic when he was in charge of the phrasing. 

It helped that he headed out on tour again a week or so later, and this time I didn't accompany my brother because my own gigs were in a different geographic locale.

But as the months passed, things grew in a way that felt utterly organic. We'd have brunch with Sami and I's family almost every weekend we were all home. He would often join my brother and I on our increasingly silly road trip ventures, often with his tag team partner, a gangly tattooed fella named Graves who called me "sweet cheeks" until I punched him hard enough to leave a really impressive bruise. Adrian apologized for a week straight, no matter how many times I pointed out it wasn't his fault.

On our one-year anniversary, he gave me a video he'd compiled of a bunch of my live performances, for my promo package. It must have been an incredible amount of work. I was just terrible at gifts but okay at planning dates, so I put together an outing to a word-of-mouth record store he'd never even  _seen_ before, and afterwards put our new haul on the record player while I made dinner with him wrapped around me, and then fucked him hard enough to knock over furniture.

He cradled my head against the blankets, and I blurted out that I loved him as the thick head of his cock parted my cunt lips. When I flipped him over and bit him hard enough to get him in trouble at work, he told me he loved me first. 

He loved it when I hurt him - when I pulled him around, slapped him, used my teeth and nails, dug my knuckles into his chest. He loved it when I held him down and took him places that made his eyes roll back in his head. I loved it too. He loved it when I was gentle, when every other word from my mouth was "love," when I begged him to fill me. I loved it too. 

If we were together, we couldn't ever stop touching - holding hands, fingers on wrists or backs. If we were apart, we talked constantly. Sometimes I managed to pull my tour dates close to his, and fans began to notice, but chalked it up to Sami and I's close relationship and to be fair, they were half-right.

That was all cleared up when Adrian won his first championship and immediately left the ring with the belt to kiss me over the barricade in full view of god and country. An audience member took a very good video of that, and of he and I both saying, "I love you" at the same time immediately afterwards and then laughing at the coincidence, kissing again, and him running his hand through his hair while I told him how proud I was, and my Twitter feed basically exploded for days. 

On our second anniversary, his favorite band was playing a big outdoor concert, and I had pulled some strings to get us a VIP spot, but we still had an hour or two to leave and ended up spending it sprawled across my bed in a hopeless tangle of limbs. He kept kissing me, an electric sweetness of tongue, but didn't seem to have any desire to take it further than letting me soak my boxers, and despite that, I was quite content to spend an hour languidly reacquainting myself with the mold of his body to mine.

When we left, though, it became harder to ignore. He slid his arm around my waist and pulled my ear to his mouth. "You smell incredible. I want to drag you into that alley, get on my knees, and put my face between your legs." His fingers traced along my waistband and I shivered. 

"I've never done anything like that before. In-in public, I mean."

"So no? It's okay, I promise; it was just an impulse. I can definitely wait until we get home." He kissed my cheek softly and I felt his smile.

In response, I took his hand and nudged it into my jeans. "I want you to. I've never done it before but I want you to."

He grinned, kissing me deeper, and muttered, "Me neither. I don't know what's come over me. Well, I do." He grabbed my wrist, but gently, and nudged me off the street.

The cold brick scraped at my back through my t-shirt, and the air was a shock as he pulled down my jeans, but the heat of his mouth made me buck involuntarily up against him, hard. I looked down at his mass of wavy hair, and ran my fingers through it, pulling it away from his face in one hand so I could watch him.

I saw the way his body coiled and bolted against nothing, and realized he was at least as turned on by this as I was, and that was saying something. I leaned my head back against the wall, digging my fingers in until they hurt, and far sooner than expected I was coming, gasping out his name as I tried to catch my breath.

I tugged on his hair, and he immediately followed the lead of my fingers, stumbling to his feet as I kissed him hard and pulled my jeans back up. 

"Was that good?" He whispered hoarsely. "You can do whatever you want with me, you know that, right? If it's not right, just put me where you need me to be."

I smiled against his lips and pulled him closer, slipping my thigh between his legs. "It was incredible. Your mouth is incredible. I just missed the rest of you too."

He grinned, grinding his hard cock against me. "So next time I should just _fuck_ you on that wall instead?"

"Maybe," I teased. "Right now I just love the way you feel pressed up against me." I wiped the remainder of my come off his face and slid my fingers into his mouth, and he closed his eyes and shivered as he gently licked them clean.

Then he grabbed my hand and we walked out and continued on our way. 

After we got home late that night, he fucked me slowly, the way he knew I liked it best, buried to the hilt in my sopping cunt, until I cried when I came because I just loved him so fucking much. 

"Oh, love," he whispered, "I never knew anything could be so good. I never want anything else." 

"Then don't go," I murmured sleeplessly, almost unaware that I had spoken at all. "Don't ever go." 

"Always," he groaned, and that one word seemed to send him over the edge every time.

It was too good. It was all too good.

 

_will you love me forever_   
_or am i just a fool?_   
_will we always be together?_   
_if you don't know, don't be cruel_


	5. i still love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Soundtrack: the Slackers - Redlight - "I Still Love You"](https://youtu.be/-Dnix49-lAQ)

_do you believe i still love you?_  
_after all's been said and done?_  
_there's a whole wide world out there_  
_full of people who just don't care_  
_well, do you believe that i still love you?_

It was supposed to be an ordinary night's work for him. A good, fun match planned against Chris Jericho, nothing too crazy or unexpected. 

Supposed to be. 

Supposed to be. 

The minute he went down, I knew something was terribly wrong. I was halfway over the barricade before Sami wrapped his arms around my waist and hauled me bodily away as the countout continued. Jericho flashed us each a glance, his face as worried as mine felt, but I was calm. Too calm. Numb.

"The medics are already here," my brother kept saying as I shoved against his grip. "They'll take him. He'll be fine. There's nothing you can do." He brought me to the back but the medical staff wouldn't let us see him until they were done with their evaluation. 

He cried when he got the news, and by the time I finally shoved my way past security into the room, throwing my coat and bag down and wrapping him in my arms, his face had steeled in a way I'd never seen before.

As we filled out paperwork and answered a million questions from doctors and tried to figure out the future beyond how to get him home, I asked the question that would send it all downhill.

"Adrian, why don't you stay with me? It would simplify a lot of things."

"We talked about this," he said, and there was a tinge of ice in his voice. _Oh no_. We were so alike in so many ways, but one of the worst was the way we could both shut off our feelings during a crisis. Useful, but scary. 

I tried to keep breathing. "We talked about moving in together. And yeah, we didn't figure that out. But this is different. You live in a fourth-floor walkup. It'll be miserable. And you can't work. If you stay with me while you're injured, we can sublet your place and it won't drain your savings."

"So I'll just be a drain on you instead? I'm not fucking doing it."

"It's not a burden! I'm offering to help you out -"

"Because I can't take care of myself. Can't pay my own bills, can't get up my own stairs, can't make you proud. My career's probably fucking  _over_ for good and you're pandering to me?"

"I'm not pandering to  _shit,_ Adrian. I'm offering, as somebody who loves you, to help you out."

"If you loved me, you'd understand that I don't need your fucking help."

I felt my frustration growing and forced it down, keeping my voice as even as I could. "What is this hypermasculine bullshit? You've got a broken fucking ankle. You're going to have to go through surgery and weeks of physical therapy. There is zero shame in leaning on people for support right now. If not me, then that's fine. I can go call Sami, or Corey, or your parents, or anybody else you'd prefer."

"I don't need any of you or your fucking  _help._ I need you to get out of my fucking face so I can handle this on my own, like I'm supposed to. I don't need any of you  _idiots_ treating me like a pathetic wounded animal, and I certainly don't need you playing worried nursemaid like this situation isn't humiliating enough as it is." 

He rubbed a hand over his face, and spoke slowly, seething with anger, biting the words out through gritted teeth. "For the love of god, just get the fuck out of here. I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, and that applies to your stupid fucking brother, too."

I froze. We were both pretty intense people, but he had never spoken to me like that. Never. I didn't know what to do. For several seconds, I held my breath, and then I did the only thing I could think of: I got up, picked up my things, and I walked out. 

Maybe other people wouldn't have. Maybe even I wouldn't have, if it had been anyone else. But for as long as I'd known him, Adrian had always, always stopped when I said the word, and then some. We'd always respected each other's boundaries. And even though a large portion of my brain was screaming  _he's hurt he's hurt he's sad and upset and he doesn't mean it go to him_ I couldn't bring myself to do it. If he told me he didn't want me there, if he told me to go, then I would go. He had to know that if he wanted me, all he needed to do was ask. He _had_ to know that. 

I called Sami, sounding eerily calm, from the hospital parking lot. He and Corey picked me up a half-hour later, and I'd already smoked half a pack of cigarettes. I'd quit three years before, but the seemingly inevitable crack from my brother about it never came. They took me back to Sami's house and made me into a blanket burrito on the couch, where I finally broke down and ugly-cried for what felt like five or six weeks but was actually more like several hours. They pretty much ordered me to stay for the weekend, and I was too exhausted and confused to fight them on it.

Sami tried to make me feel better by feeding me a stack of cinnamon rolls bigger than my head and telling me that Adrian was "being a complete freaking _ass_ ," which might be the meanest thing I've ever heard him say about anyone.

Corey tried to make me feel better by making me watch  _Mean Girls_ with him for the four thousandth time and offering to punch Adrian in the mouth when he came back to work.

They both helped a little. But even then, I felt like a worthless lump, the only one of us who was too numbed-out to function. Yes, he was my boyfriend, but he had been Corey's tag team partner and one of Sami's best friends, and they had to cheer  _me_ up? It seemed unfair and rotten. 

It only got worse from there. 

_God,_ it only got worse from there.

Sami wouldn't tell me much when Adrian finally came back, which meant he was worried sick because if there is one thing my brother doesn't do, it's  _ever_ stop talking. They went on tour for a while, and so did I, which was a very welcome distraction.

But the whole time, my phone blew up like clockwork, often a confused Graves shamelessly begging me to help, which I refused ( _his dumb ass can ask me himself)_ but more often social media - fans wondering where I was, if I was responsible for his shocking change in behavior. _I'm sure that pisses him right off_ , I thought with a small, guilt-ridden degree of satisfaction.

Finally, they came home, and when I told Sami I wanted to go to the show, he made a big lemon-sucking face and said I had to stay backstage and watch on the monitors the whole time and "Don't do anything stupid." 

Famous last words. 

_well now do you believe that i'll protect you?_  
_when the time comes, baby i won't go_  
_well i'm not gonna fight_  
_no i won't bleed_  
_to protect the glory of your creed_  
_but do you believe that i still love you?_


	6. sing your song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Soundtrack: the Slackers - Self-Medication - "Sing Your Song"](https://youtu.be/BW7E6oYEJuw)

_"Stay backstage and don't do anything stupid."_

And that's where I was as Adrian relentlessly beat the ever-loving shit out of one of the new guys, Tony Nese, who aside from this weird habit of kissing his own biceps in front of every reflective surface, had done absolutely nothing to deserve the unrestrained fury of the self-proclaimed King of the Cruiserweights.

There was no reason for this beatdown. He could have pinned Tony ages ago, but he just kept laying waste, throwing him around the ring like so much trash. "How are there no TKOs in this fucking sport?" I lectured at the backstage monitor. It didn't respond. "Sadomasochist son of a bitch." I realized I was pacing. I made a snap decision to pace with a purpose. Now or never.

I stalked briskly past the backstage manager, who knew me well, and gave him a glance. He looked worried sick, and I told him, "I'm gonna do something stupid," and walked out onto the ramp.

The crowd didn't notice a thing until Sami's music hit, which I guess was an appropriate choice given the options, and I almost jumped out of my skin when they finally kicked in, chanting "Holy shit! Holy shit!"

_Our day will come_  
_And we'll have everything_

I saw him stand bolt upright, steel himself, and turn very slowly away from his unconscious opponent. 

_We'll share the joy_  
_Falling in love can bring_

I heard him snarl, "What are you _doing_?"

I tried to respond, but all I could do was close my eyes. 

He was bigger, bulkier, haughtier, stood prouder than he'd ever been, and yet he looked so exhausted. 

I reopened my eyes and slowly approached the ring, my hands up in surrender.

"Let him go, Adrian." My voice cracked. "Haven't you done enough?"

He looked down his nose at me. " _You._ Your brother talked you into this, did he?" Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Graves standing up behind the announce table, jaw hanging open, clearly in shock. 

"Sami had nothing to do with this, Adrian."

His mouth twitched. "How  _dare_ you call me that after what you did. After what you're doing now."

"What exactly do you think I'm doing?" I was terrified, but for maybe the first time in my life, I didn't look away, not for a second. Nese was crumpled along the ropes to my left, and Adrian was standing tall in the center of the ring, glaring daggers at me. 

"Well that's why you're here, yeah? So you can  _fix_ me the way you wanted to do when I broke my ankle, before you ran out like everyone else?"

I clenched my fists and slammed them on the apron. 

_You may think you're the king, but I was your queen, **and I will not cower.**_

"You and I both know that I didn't run anywhere." I pounded my fist over my heart, aware on some level that every gesture screamed louder than my words.

"You told me to leave. You told all of us to leave, because you were scared and humiliated and you'd rather suffer all by yourself than let any of us help you." I raked my fingers through my curls in frustration. "I don't think it's my job to fix you - as a woman, as a person, as someone who loved you from the first second we brushed against each other in that warehouse. The only thing I can do for you is remind you that not only are you not alone, but you never _were_ alone except by your own making. None of that was necessary. None of  _this_ is necessary." I gestured to the barely-stirring body of his opponent, to the audience, and heard slow, careful footsteps far behind me that I'd bet cash money belonged to my brother.

"Why would you say that when you've seen what I've become? I'm the  _king_ now. I'm better than I ever was." 

"You're not the king." I fumbled at my words and felt the tears start to build. "You're the man in the iron fucking mask. You've made yourself a monster. Does that make you happy?"

He curled his lip at me. "The world needs monsters, girl." Some corner of my brain pointed out that he hadn't answered my question.

"The world is already _full_ of monsters, boy." I slammed my hands on the apron again and heard the crowd make a low rumble that translated roughly to  _oh no she didn't_. "The world outside of this room is _run_ by monsters, Adrian." 

I wasn't seeing things - he let out the tiniest flinch every time I said his name. "It's kind men, gentle men, vulnerable men that the world needs most of all, especially since we've been missing one of its finest for the past several months." I grabbed the middle rope, not really sure what I was doing, just needing something to hold onto.

He stared me down so hard it made my stomach hurt, and steeled himself for a response that I could already tell was going to crush my heart in my chest.

He took a breath.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of movement. Nese was on his feet, and he was _fast_. There was no way I could warn him in time, so I did the only thing I could think of - I slingshotted over the middle rope and dove directly in his way. I was not the athletic one, but Sami had taught me a thing or two about how to make an entrance. My aim was off and I didn't hit him full force, which is probably good, but he clipped me. That horrible running knee Nese loved so much lost the vast majority of its force when it careened off the side of my forehead, and we both went tumbling down to the ring floor. 

As soon as I hit the mat, I heard the ref scream for a DQ. The bell rang, someplace far away. I was busted open, the blood beginning to pour from my forehead and pool underneath me as I sprawled in an army crawl on the canvas. I don't know who or what was watching my ass from on high that day, but I knew immediately that it was going to be fine - I hadn't rattled my brain remnants too much and the damage was largely superficial, although increasingly messy, and I was losing what felt like a Muta's worth of blood.

_It's okay. It's gonna be okay. It just looks bad._

Adrian didn't know that. He stood, frozen, knuckles turning white at his sides as I tried to pull my knees underneath me, looking fiercely at him through an increasingly red haze.

He couldn't decide whether the right thing to do was to help me or murder Nese, and before he could make up his mind, Graves did it for him, vaulting over the announce table only to drag Nese under the bottom rope and commence pummeling him up against the apron, only to be pulled off by my brother, who had finally caught up to what was happening in the ring.

At that, Adrian was shocked into action, and bolted to my side, pushing my bloody curls out of my face as he tried to put pressure on the gash. I felt dizzy and tired, and the last thing I remember clearly before being swarmed by EMS was the terror on his face and the faint realization that he was absolutely covered in my blood. After that, it all gets a little fuzzy. 

Sami told me later that the last thing anyone heard me say was, "I don't know _why_ I didn't just let him clock ya."

 

_wash out my apathetic mouth, dear_  
_with the whiskey of your kiss_  
_there is no tapestry of words here_  
_just spiders' webs of hit or miss_  
_if you've insanity for reason_  
_or of excuses had your fill_  
_i say your name cause no one else does_  
_i sing your song cause no one will_


	7. epilogue: come back baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Soundtrack: the Slackers - Redlight - "Come Back Baby"](https://youtu.be/T0kkrN9UE5g)

A few days later, I found myself looking out into a crowd of familiar faces in my favorite dive from my perch on the same rickety barstool I always brought onstage with me for nights like these. The rumors had spread like wildfire, and while the promoter gave me every chance to cancel, we all knew I wasn't going to, and my sympathetic doctor had given me permission to have a couple of beers as long as I didn't take any painkillers with them.

Fair enough.

I had mostly managed to cover the stitches with my curls, although it still throbbed even through the solid buzz I'd wrapped around me like a security blanket.

At the end of the night, I usually liked to wind down by doing acoustic sets, mostly covers, in homage to the bar bands that had taught me everything I know. I had picked the closer tonight without really thinking about it other than that it had come up in my headphones on the bus ride over, but as I retuned and hit the first few opening chords, I saw the front door open, and a small, broad-shouldered figure came through, nodding briefly to the doorman in recognition. 

_Shit. Thank god I'm here. Thank god I'm up here._ I focused on the far wall, on the lights, on the bartender out of the corner of my eye, then let it all go and, as I do, sang my fucking ass off. 

_where are you tonight, my love?_  
_this i'm asking to the stars up above_  
_when will you be coming home?_  
_cause i'm afraid to be alone_  
_long before we met that summer_  
_i was sure i would never love another_  
_now i know i was wrong, so wrong_  
_now honey, why you gone so long?_

I finished, shook hands, thanked people, got paid. My brother and Corey, who had been leaning against the bar, popped onstage to help me pack up my gear, and when I took a glance around the room, I realized he was gone. 

Sami nudged me. "Time for you to go home, sis. Trust me on this one."

I walked outside with my gig bag in hand, and there he was, leaning against the wall, wearing that damn Skinhead Moonstomp t-shirt again. I looked at him, shook my head, and lowered my bag to the ground. He stepped to me quickly, and I flinched back, instinctively clenching a fist. Then he exhaled and his voice shook. 

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything. Can't even fucking apologize right without scaring you. After all you did for me. You were right - I was alone because I made myself that way. I was too proud to think about letting you see me in pain. I put myself through hell, and it was all for nought. And I broke my promise to you."

"You never promised me anything," I mumbled, kicking at the gravel on the sidewalk.

"I did. I promised I would never stop trying to show you how loved you are. And I fucked up, even when you didn't."

"You told me to leave. So I did."

"And it was the stupidest thing that's ever come out of my mouth, which is saying something. I tried to be mad at you for it, but even back then I knew it was my fault - we've always been careful like that."

"What do you want, Adrian?"

"To tell you I'm sorry. And that I will respect whatever you wish involving my presence in your life - I know we can't get away from each other entirely, but I want you to feel safe. If that means you come backstage with Sami and I have to leave the room, I'll do it. If that means I take the first chance I get to jump ship and go to another promotion, another country even, I'll do it. You don't ever have to speak to me again. Just think about it."

"Do you think I  _haven't?_ " I snarled to cover my tears. "I've spent so many hours of my life trying to figure out how to handle this. What I want. If I can ever trust being in the same room as you again. Even being this close is an open fucking wound." I wiped my face with the sweat rag I kept in my back left pocket. "I fucking  _dreamed_ about you, Adrian. Almost every night. Nothing fancy. I would just wake up and see you next to me, and feel like everything is gonna be okay, and then wake up for real, crying and shivering."

He looked like he might shatter into a million pieces. "I dreamed about you too. It was the only time I've been happy."

"Will you hug me, please?" I blurted out. My whole body ached in the way that only his arms had ever soothed.

He hesitated for a brief moment, and then stepped forward, wrapping me up in an embrace so tight and warm I never wanted to feel anything else as long as I lived. 

I couldn't resist any longer. I'd missed him too goddamn much, consequences be damned, and I buried my face in his neck. He froze instantly, but before I could back off, he whispered, "I don't want to do this without you."

I didn't have any words, so instead I kissed his neck, gently, right where it met his shoulder, and he groaned so loud it seemed to embarrass him. I did it again, and one of his hands flew up to cup the buzzcut back of my head while the other wrapped around my waist. The third time, I raked my teeth over the same spot, just a little, and he visibly shivered. 

"Walk me home?" I asked, into that same spot on his skin, and he swallowed hard and nodded. 

"Can I carry your guitar?" 

My knees almost gave out. He used to always carry my gear, even though it took ages for me to trust him with my most beloved possessions. I nodded, and he hefted the case off the ground and waited for me to lead the way, even though we'd done it a thousand times. 

"Thanks for coming with me." 

"Thank you for asking." He handed the case over, and I saw his shoulders drop a little as he turned away and headed for the outside door.

I turned back, pulled out my keys, and unlocked the deadbolt.

_Fuck this. Fuck consequences. Fuck not getting what I want._

I set my guitar down, keys still in the lock, and called back over my shoulder. "Adrian."

He barely had time to turn around before I closed the distance between us and slammed his back into the closed door, fists grinding into his chest, noses almost touching. 

"You have every right in the world to walk away and I promise I will not stop you. But if you don't want to, now would be a great time to kiss me."

I barely finished the sentence before he crashed breathlessly into me, his hands clutched at my hips. _Like a drowning man,_ I thought _,_ somewhere in the flurry of tongues and hands and heartbeats. 

"I just wanted you to ask," he gasped. "I just needed to know that this was what you wanted."

Finally the ache inside me started to open up, only to pour out everywhere, like it had finally been awoken and was beginning to stretch its limbs and creaking joints in the sunrise. 

We made it halfway across my apartment before I realized he was crying. "I lost everything," he said hoarsely, hanging his head. "My job, my friends, the woman I love."

"No you didn't. You walked away from those things, but you didn't lose them. You came back. You came back to all of us."

"And you took me anyway. You didn't have to, none of you did. I got you hurt, on so many levels." He brushed my curls aside, revealing the stitches across my forehead.

"You're right. We didn't. But we stayed because we hoped you'd come back. We chose to try." At that he cried even harder, and I hugged him tightly and let him dry his tears on the shoulder of my shirt. "And you know what?"

He looked up, and I couldn't help myself.

"As fucked-up as you've been, those were some serious ass-kickings you've been doling out. Just... stop next time they're unconscious, please?" 

He deadpanned, "I make no promises," and I rolled my eyes and kissed him. I'm not sure what came over me at that specific second, but when he deepened the kiss, I bit down on his lower lip. Hard. He gasped, and then let out a snarl that made me grin as I let him go. 

"I _missed_ you, you fucking idiot. Did you think this was going to be all tender loving care?"

"God, I hope not," he growled. "You always give me what I deserve."

Always.

 

 

  
_my head is heavy, my heart is filled with pain_  
_and i fear that feeling will remain_  
_go to sleep, go to sleep, now_  
_i pray you find no harm_  
_and then i'll dream you're in my arms_  
_and i keep asking you to come back, baby_  
_come back, baby_  
_come back, baby_  
_the joke is done, now come on home_  
_distance makes a heart grow fonder_  
_but honey, you don't have to wander_  
_to make me say those three words_


End file.
